Why be me?
by blazedveggies556
Summary: A stockbroker named Pamela Mansforde has a hard time having confidence in herself, and it definitely isn't boosted when she isn't doing well in her job. But what happens when she meets a certain Kung Fu Master? Rated T just in case, but there won't be any profanity or anything like that. :)
1. Author's Note

**Yes, I do have other things on my plate. But I just HAD to bring this idea to life before I forgot it! It is going to start out slow, but I guess that's just how I write. ;) So, hope you guys enjoy the little intro here.**

Author's Note

Throughout the course of this novella, you–– the reader–– may wonder more than once one thing–– is this actually true?

No, I do not know for sure if such a thought will cross your mind, but I know this has been the most prevalent question from the publishers who have critiqued my work. It was definitely hard to have the honesty of my work examined, but I understand that if I was in their position, I would believe this book to be nothing more than a fairytale.

If I had not experienced it for myself.

At one point, I was considering publishing this as a children's story after numerous failed attempts as branding this as a non-fiction work. But "story" connotes a meaning of mere whimsy and extreme fantasticalness. Though it may appear that way through the way I depict the events, it did not feel that way to me, and I hope that I am able to communicate that feeling to you successfully.

Before you begin reading, I would like to clarify a couple things. The first is that this style of this novella is more colloquial than most books. The reason for this is because I spoke out my experiences into a recorder first before writing them out. Because of this, at some points of the book, it was hard to describe certain things, so I expressed those events through poems.

Forgive me for this long-winded note and my ambiguity (I have never written an author's note before, or a book for that matter), but I thank you for bearing with me and I hope to see you at the end of this book.

~ Pamela Mansforde


	2. Chapter 1

Nothing

But the slow strokes of breath

Rhythm flowing

In… and out…

In… and out…

… a single small white light

Bursts into existence

Silent

But the vibration begins.

A streak beams

Across the darkscape,

Then falling up

Into the descending white noise

Movements in vain

The impending darkness

Engulfs…

Then…

A chilling growled garble––

Pens out the lettered wall.

ThEnThERoaR

WiTHapULliNReVErSe…

…So, where should I begin?

… I have not thought about these events for a while, but as I try now, I can visualize it clearly.

The hard thing about recollecting to others is figuring out where to start. You do not want to just toss everything out there in clumps and leave it up to everyone else to patch it up in a cohesive work. It may not be perceived the way you would like it to. But you do not want to be too elusive either, potentially withholding crucial details.

So… I guess… I should start with that night. The night I had that strange dream. It was more like a nightmare when I was going through it, but as I awoke with a jolt into reality, the fear that shook my heart subsided as a dull ache set in.

The moonlight was bright, illuminating my apartment through the single window. The blinds would have covered it, but they broke on the first attempt to twist the turn switch, the spontaneity of it causing a small gash on my right hand and a heap of broken plastic on the floor.

I turned my head to look out the window to see if the sun was peeking over the buildings. But the moon was so unusually bright that I could not see anything past that blinding white light. Nearsightedness did not help either.

 _Oh, that's not the moon_ , I realized. _That's that lamppost they moved in front of the window._ *sigh* _Well, they had to move it somewhere. I didn't want to be mean and say, 'No, you can't move it here! It's going to bother me!'… I'm not anyone really important…_

Groggy, I turned to face my clock.

 _Three o'clock? I still have a couple hours before I have to get ready for work…_

I rubbed my eyes, feeling restless.

"… I can't go back to sleep".

I got up from bed and stretched. The bed was a bit small for my stature, but it was the cheapest thing I could afford.

I shuffled my feet across the floor, heading towards the refrigerator, avoiding the lip in the carpet.

 _What should I have for breakfast? Hm… noodles and sausage. Just like yesterday's dinner… and lunch._

It's not that I did not enjoy the occasional Ramen meal, especially with the savory taste of meat, but a repeated meal does lose its flavor after some time. That was the quickest thing I could come up with, though.

I placed the container into the microwave for about fifteen seconds and just rested my head in my hands on the counter, looking over the apartment room.

There was not much to look at. My bed, dresser, nightstand, television, and table rested in the small space.

Then there was the corner of the room I could not stand to look at.

The canvases.

My passion lied within painting and writing. Choosing certain words for expression is such a delicate process. It interested me. And when I could not express myself in words, even through a poem, I resorted to painting, a quiet yet just as impactful art form.

But… nothing I made seemed good enough. Neither the scenery I imagined nor the scenery I saw on strolls through the city translated well on the canvas. Halfway through painting, I tossed the canvas every time, seeming too bland and not doing anything any justice. Writing did not go well either. Tangible or intangible, I hated everything I wrote. Eventually I just gave up on reviving that passion.

I knew that nothing can be perfect, but nothing I made came even close.

 _But… maybe I can try again?_

I stabbed my fork in the reheated meal. _What am I thinking? I can't do anything right. I'm just… just…_

Though I saw the beauty in the world, I failed to see any worth in myself. Dry, scraggly black hair, dull gray eyes, knobby long legs and arms.

That is all I saw in myself.

 _Mom and Dad thought differently…_

I shook the thoughts from my head. _I'm not going to think about it. I'm not going to think about it. I'm not going to think about it._

My mind searched for something else to think about. To keep from remembering.

 _That dream was pretty weird._ But I _felt_ "pretty weird" was an understatement.

 _I'm probably thinking too much about it, though. Hardly remember what it was about. Just another nightmare, nothing more…_

Something did not sit well, though. This was not just a nightmare-type feeling, followed by the relief that it was just a dream, but something completely different. Something… dark.

My eyes drifted in thought, settling on the clock. It read three o'clock.

 _Wait, wasn't it three o'clock twenty minutes ag-_

"Oh no, don't tell me!" I rushed over to the clock, nearly tipping over the table in my haste. With my eyes better adjusted to the dark, I noticed––

"The second hand isn't moving. It broke!" I yelled.

I bounded to the window. Doing my best to ignore the beaming lamplight, I looked outside. Ominous clouds loomed in the sky. "It's not nighttime, it's cloudy. Argh! Where's my watch!?"

In my frantic search, I found it on the floor under my bed.

"Must have knocked it off the nightstand when I was asleep––" I saw the time.

Half past six.

"Oh, great. I'm going to be late!"

And that's how my day began.


	3. Chapter 2

**Hey! It's been a while. Here's the next chapter. Enjoy! :D**

[…]

Rushing through Cantwell Boulevard, I swerved my car into the current of vehicles. "Swerved" is a strong term, but it's true. With the knowledge of ridicule for my lack of punctuality, I just had to make it to work as fast as possible.

I know, I'm not proud of it.

The sky had changed from a simple gray to the color of stardust with a tinge of blue, the ripples in the clouds like the rolling waves of the ocean.

How did I know? My eyes drifted to the sky while I was stopped at a traffic light, different thoughts zooming through my mind.

 _Ugh… so tired… did I brush my teeth before I left?..._ *sigh* _Why is this light taking forever to change!? It's like every single intersection. Red light!... The sky's pretty… Was kind of scary-looking, but now looks kind of nice… good scenery portrai––_

 _HOOOOOONNK!_

The sudden sound jolted me off my train of thought.

A man poked his head out from the car behind me. "Hey lady! Get your car moving or _get off the road!_ "

I crouched slightly in my seat and pushed the gas pedal, my face hot.

 _Shoot, I have to stop doing that. Get your head out of the clouds, Pamela!_

Eventually, I got to the firm's parking lot. It seemed like the lot had expanded after five minutes of searching for my space, but I had just gone around in two full circles.

"Where in the world is my––!"

I could not believe it. Another car had taken what looked to be my space.

"Isn't that my space?" I strained my neck to get a better look at it and squinted. I did have my contacts on, but my sight was a little blurry since my right eye had a stigmatism. Putting the contact in was like trying to force a round peg into an oblong hole, if you can imagine it that way.

"Wha–– yeah! That _is_ my space! It has that little smiley face I painted in the corner that one day! I––". My hands clenched the steering wheel, my eyes trying to hold back tears. I just had to breathe it out.

"…It's fine. It's fine. Nothing personal against me. Whoever that is just made an honest mistake. I'll just… park on the curb somewhere".

[…]

Karpin Financial Partners. The monotonous ring of phones and the meld of unclaimed voices conjoining in one, droning cacophony. Gray as its stage.

I dragged myself through the door into the office, ashamed of how late I was… but no one seemed to notice me.

 _He_ was talking to some men dressed in business attire on the other side of the room. Well, everyone in the office was dressed in business attire, even myself, though admittedly more slovenly. But these people just seemed to stand out. I could not exactly place my finger on it. Was it just the shadows cast over them? Their expressions of conceit?

The curiosity vanished as I saw him begin to turn in my direction.

 _Maybe if I can just make it to the restroom and freshen up, I'll be more presentable and lessen the blow_ , I hoped.

I hurried to the restroom, but my swiftness proved fatal.

"Pam!"

I froze. Nothing I could but face it.

"I-I'm s-so sorry, Mr. Karpin. I-I didn't mean to be this late! My clock broke, I rushed to get over here––"

"Always full of excuses, aren't we Pam?" Mr. Karpin huffed, advancing towards me. "Frankly, I couldn't care less about what happens outside your work life as long as you get here on time, but you are forty-five minutes late. This _better_ not be related to that incident several days ago. Three days are a sufficient amount of time for grievance. Those days are done. Such behavior does not belong in the workplace. Do you understand Pam?"

… It was easy to look everywhere else but his eyes. Well, easi _er_. What I avoided from him I got from my co-workers, the wondering eye or grimace. The level of sound did not decrease, but I could have sworn every ear was intently listening to the conversation. I even heard a few stifled snickers from the businessmen Mr. Karpin had talked to. This whole conversation was a bit unprofessional, knowing this discussion was on public display, but I did not see that then.

 _I deserve this. I_ am _late._

"Do you. Unnderr. Staaand. Paamm?" Mr. Karpin kept his stare rigid, but his voice derisively fluid.

I kept my head lowered, like a child being scolded, but I responded. "Yes sir…".

My compliance did not seem to faze him. "… Expect clerical work after my business meeting".

"B-but", I stammered, "with all due respect, that doesn't really make any––"

"Clerical. Work". He straightened out and turned to the cluster of men, lingering a bit, maybe to let the conversation sink into me, but in the next second turned his head to face me again. "Oh, and before I forget, I let one of these gentleman use your parking space. I figured if you ever _did_ … show up, you wouldn't mind driving somewhere else. Right? Pam?"

I cleared my throat to suppress the waver in my throat. "Of course. Not a problem".

He smirked and shook his head. "Get to your desk, Pam" he ordered. Then turned and walked away.

And I did just as I was told. Now, I hope this does not sound as if I condone not obeying a higher authority, but as I stated before, it was all unprofessional. But I did not say anything.

My desk was located in a corner, isolated from the rest of the crowd, but it was not really all that bad. An occasional spider web here and there, but they would be gone before the end of the day. It wasn't any of my doing, though. It was Blake's.

Ever since I started work at KFP, I had always known him to be a gentleman. He would say "Good morning" to everyone, even if he did not receive the same cheery greeting back. I would overhear some of my co-workers gossip about how Blake had terrible anger problems, but I would dismiss them as just rumors. _Somebody always has to say something bad about someone else_ , I would think.

As for myself, I built a strong friendship with him. I would see him each day and chat with him a bit when Mr. Karpin was not looking. He wore a collared shirt with black pants, just like any man who works, but he always had a different tie on each day, and I really mean it! I never saw the same tie again. It was… kind of cute… He had these thick stands of curly brown hair that just stuck out at the top of his head, patted down by his hand every so often, but always standing back up again… but I am digressing!

I always felt kind of bad for him because Mr. Karpin had him only do oddjobs around the office, but Blake never seemed to complain. He would tidy up files, clean up any mess caused by the bustling mass of workers, things like that. And even though it was not his job, he would clean my work space for me. I would never find time to do it, so it was sweet when he offered. He even bought coffee for me that day I was late.

"Good morning, Pam! Guess what I brought?" Blake quietly sang out.

"Um, Blake? I really don't feel like chatting right now," I responded, slouched in my desk, my mind still reeling from the confrontation.

"… It rhymes with toffee", he persisted.

I took a peek over my shoulder and could not help but smile despite the embarrassment earlier. I took the coffee and thanked him. "You're a peach".

His bright expression changed to a serious look when he saw how solemn my face was. "What's the matter Pam?"

It was surprising that he had not heard the commotion, but it dawned on me that he was probably out getting the coffee around that time.

"Oh, it's nothing. I'm just… a little tired is all. Um… hey, did you move in to that apartment?" I _did_ say that I did not feel like talking, but I did not want him to attempt to pry open the matter. _It's best if I can get him to think of something else_ , I thought.

"Oh, yeah! I did. Finally moved everything in. You know, I was… actually planning to have a small welcoming party. Just for fun. Adds a more human feel to the space. Um," he smoothed his hair, "I was wondering if you wanted to come. There's this pool close by for the community. Maybe I can ask if we can gather there. I'm sure it'd be alright".

"Well", I began, "that sounds nice, but I'm still… trying to cope with everything… I-I don't think I'm really up to socializing a lot right now…". My head dropped a little and I looked down at the floor.

Since my eyes were pointed downward, I did not get a good look at his face–– how his expression changed to respond to my behavior–– but from the awkward silence that followed and the way he shuffled his feet. I sensed he felt he had done something wrong. As if he smashed something fragile by stumbling into it. I had not intended to make him think that. Not at all! But I allowed my better judgement to be clouded by a bout of sadness.

"…Pam… I-I didn't mean to, uh, bring that back up. I just––"

"No, no. I-it's fine. That's just been the only thing on my mind for a while. You didn't do anything". _Way to go Pamela!_ I thought angrily. _You just made this_ really _awkward._

"So––" Blake started, but I did not let him finish his sentence.

"–– Mr. Karpin's going to have me do some clerical work in…", I craned my neck to the side to get a glimpse of his office. His blinds were closed, only a few blurry movements seen through the small crevices, "…a…few moments, so I have to get ready for anything. Heh". I forced a small smile to relieve some of the tension.

But Blake looked confused. "Clerical work? What––"

"Thanks again for the coffee Blake. We'll talk later". I was being hasty, but I did not want to get into detail about what had happened. _I shouldn't say anything more_.

[…]

"Clerical Work" turned out to be a fat stack of random paper… and "fat" is an understatement.

I honestly do not recall what any of those papers were about. Analytical charts, phone numbers, graphs. I could have been doing a connect-the-dots for all I know, not to the deprecate the occupation, but from what I _do_ remember the work did not seem pertinent to anything. The only instructions from Mr. Karpin were "Do it, organize it, and be done by today. Put it in my box when you're done". However, I did as I was told.

It took a few hours to get a general idea of what to do, a few more hours to actually do it, and a few more to organize it. Now, I use the word "few" as if the work did not take long at all, but believe it or not, I was the only one left in the building. It was already past one by the time I finished.

Then a _crack_ resounded in the clouds.

I straightened up in my desk, alarmed by the sudden noise.

"Was that––?" But no sooner had I said this did I hear the slow, scattered _plinks_ on the window across from me.

Then the noise increased in strength and speed, enveloping the streets with water, bolts of lightning streaking the sky every few minutes.

"No! Man, I should have known it would be like that since this morning!" I dropped the papers into Mr. Karpin's inbox that was just outside his office. "I better leave before it gets any worse!"

In hindsight, I should have stayed inside for a bit to wait out the storm, but knowing that I had nothing to protect myself from the rain, I took this as a panic situation.

I grabbed my purse and bolted outside, the doors locking behind me. Even with flats on, I managed to slip a handful of times. My clothes were soaking wet, I felt sticky with grime from the streets, and I was tired. Feeling deflated, I slowed my run and folded my arms to keep myself warm. And to contain my frustration.

"*sigh* Why did I have to park it so far away?" I groaned, spitting out some loose strands of my wet hair from my mouth.

When I got to my car twenty minutes later, my hands were frozen. The scar on my right hand even started to ache.

I frantically rummaged my purse for my keys, but my fingers were stiff, so they twisted in weird angles, touching everything _but_ the keys.

"C'mon… Grab it!...Ugh",…*clink*. "Got it!"

But the heart-shaped keychain caught on a loose string.

"What!? No! C'mon!" I yelled. I yanked as hard as I could, tears just rolling down my face, indistinguishable from the rain.

 _Why does this kind of stuff happen to me? I… hate…_ "Gah!"

The string tore as I gave one giant pull… and the keys went flying into the air…

Then down a sewer grate.

I clasped my hands over my mouth and held my breath.

"No…". I fell to my knees, earnestly hoping the keys were still in reach. But the rain was pouring so hard, the waters were raging, and the atmosphere was so dark, I could only assume they had been swept away.

"Looks like someone's having a bad day", a voice taunted.

I spun around. Three shadows stood in front of an alley. A shock of lightning illuminating the sky, and illuminated the shadows for a split second. Three young men clad in dark, unkempt clothing, I believe, all a bit blurry. But even so, the gist of the sight was enough to immobilize me in fear.

"What's a lady like you doing out in a storm like this?" one gruffed, presumably the leader of the group.

I just stood, motionless. "P-please", I stuttered, "I d-don't want any t-trouble. Here!" I held out my purse. "You can take it! I just want to walk home a-and um… and…" I could not think with the countless thoughts racing through my head.

 _What're they going to do? Can I escape? I just want to go home! I'm freezing… Am I going to die? No! I can't think that way! But what if? Who are they? I don't know what to do!_

They ignored my plea. "You know", one of the other men vocalized, "I think a woman should be treated better than this".

The leader grinned devilishly with the next round of lightning. "I do believe you're right". Then with an icy glare, he advanced toward me. "Let's show her a good time"…

[…]

Sharp metal

Unsheathed

Eyes

Shut tight

Hands

To the side

Blood pumping

To the cry of

Adrenaline

Awaiting anything

Almost against

This earthly garment

 _I'm not ready to go!_

…then…

A sweet wind

Gushes from above

Soft

Knocks them away

Scuffling and yelps in the distance

[…]

I slowly opened my eyes and caught a glimpse of a figure soaring through the alley. The three men had run off.

"Hey, h-hey! Wait!" I sped off after it. "Wait!" It might seem strange to just run into an alley after facing such a life-threatening encounter, but… something was telling me to follow. That whoever that was… was benign.

The alley seemed unusually long and winding, but I eventually saw a dead end.

"Huh?" I slowed my run, out of breath and confused. But the figure then jumped into a hole leading into the ground. "Woah, wait! Hold on!" I yelled.

I inspected the hole. There was nothing to really see. Just a steel ladder that led into pitch black. _Do I dare to go in there? I…I don't know._ But my curiosity got the better of me.

So I descended down the ladder rungs and jumped to the edge of the sewer, creeping my way along to avoid touching any of the sewer water. It led me some sort of opening, but it was still too dark to really see anything.

"Um, hello?" I wheezed, hands on my knees, not sensing a presence. "Did… you do that back there?" My eyes darted from space to space. "I…I just wanted to thank you".

A light chuckle came from the other side. It was warm and… grandfather-like.

"I am glad you chose to come".

The figure took some shape, but was still in the shadows.

"Um", I started, "and… your name is…?"

"My name is Oogway".

 **There you go! :) Hope you guys enjoyed. Don't forget to leave a comment and/or review! :)**


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